Back to the Future
by WindowChild
Summary: The Auror department takes a trip into the future, only to find that most of the continents have been destroyed in the invention of the Capitol. While they can't save it, they do manage to save the life of Peeta - and to bring him back to their own time
1. Back to the Future

A/N: Next generation, so Ron and Harry are already working in the Ministry. However, I picture I being rather early, so Lily and Hugo aren't born yet, but Rose, James and Albus are. Some Catching Fire spoilers in the following chapters, but not this one.

"Harry! Harry!"

Ron ran into the Auror office, looking thoroughly flushed. He pulled his scarf up around his ears, panting. "Harry, they've just gotten back!"

"Who?" Harry was in the middle of some trial reports, the strain of which had caused him to forget the previous month's mission.

"Down in the Department of Mysterious! From the Time Turners, remember?"

Harry's eyes bugged right out of his skull as he remembered the remarkable reinvention. Of course, their mission! "They're back?" he whispered, staring past Ron and out the grand window. It seemed awfully soon. He wasn't sure he was ready to hear the predicament of their future.

"You ready?" Ron asked, echoing his thoughts. "C'mon mate, let's go hear from them. Stanley was nice enough to go, after all."

It was true. Their good friend and coworker, Stanley Jensen, had accompanied the two Unspeakables in the hopes that the Auror department might actually get some information from this mission. You see, when reinventing the wall of Time Turners (which Ron and Harry had abashedly confessed to smashing, in their fifth year), the Department of Mysteries had managed to craft them so that they could travel forward, as well as back. It was a remarkable feat, and one that the ministry had been instructed to keep secret for the time being.

"What do you think they'll say?" Ron asked. The friends stood side by side, both shaking with nerves as they rode the giant elevator.

"How far did they go, again?" Harry asked, grimacing at his own ignorance. He had all of the information upstairs, on his desk.

"About a hundred years I think. No wait, they started there, and then went another seventy five or so." Ron shook his head. "I'm not entirely sure."

"Right." Silence lapsed against their toes, wading up to their mouths as anticipation overcame them. This was a big step, even for the Ministry.

"Hello Stanley," Ron greeted warmly, thumping the man on the back. He took a step away, allowing Harry to shake his hand. Only then did they notice his – and the Unspeakable's – distressed frowns.

"What?" Ron asked, as calmly as he could. "What happened?"

Stanley cleared his throat. "Robert's been taken to St. Mungo's, to be treated for shock. It's – it's no good Ron." He shook his head, clenching his teeth and sucking back spit. "Harry. What we saw…"

Norman nodded, taking it from there. He was frowning as well, but looked considerably calmer. "A hundred years, and it's more or less the end of the world. For our kind. Most of the continents were destroyed. Europe, Asia, Africa…. All of them, except for North America."

Panic seemed to spool from Ron and Harry's skin, as the message sunk in. It was years in the future, so it was no immediate danger of course, but what about their families? Most of the continents _destroyed?_

" 'Mione and I went to America last summer," Ron said. "It's – it's alright there."

"Not in a hundred years it's not," Stanley interjected. He gave a sigh, sounding considerably troubled. "Our people did it, actually. We recognized some of the spells, and besides, there's no other way they could have managed it…" He trailed off, obviously picturing what they'd seen. "They took over the country. The world, since that was all that's left. They used their magic, and they started ruling it."

Harry sank against a stray box, trying to think of it as information rather than something to affective. Using magic to take over the world? Wasn't that what they'd tried to stop in Voldemort?

"But it gets worse," Norman said, glancing at Stanley. "They kept their magic a secret, pretended everything they did was with inventions. Named their bloody government the Capitol." He gave a sneer. "Then, in seventy-five years…" He shook his head. "There's this other bloke ruling, Snow. I swear to God he's a Gaunt, if there ever was one."

"Gaunt?" Harry whispered, breathless. "That was… that was Tom Riddle's family." He looked up sharply. "But that's impossible. That family line ended in Riddle."

"Well, I don't know," Norman continued. "We only got a glimpse of him, with a stunning spell, and I can only tell you this. He's smart. Quick. He's good at ruling, and at making people believe he's right. But he's a wizard, mark my words. No other way he could have gotten to the place he was."

"When you say… when you say using the magic as inventions," Ron began slowly, "Do you mean they're giving them to muggles?"

"Hard to say," Norman answered. Stanley had turned away from the group, too wrapped up to speak. "They've all mixed so much, that only a few are obvious."

"Any relatives of anyone good?" Ron asked. "Me or Harry maybe?"

"No," Norman answered. "Not that we saw." Noticing their anxious expressions, he continued. "We didn't see everyone, though. They could have been in other places. Districts, they call them. Or – or they could have died in the war." Everyone was silent for a moment, thinking this over.

"Hang on a minute," Harry said. "How'd you know where to go? If Europe was destroyed?"

Stanley turned back, smiling wryly. "We somewhat guessed, when we noticed the land was gone."

"The actual _land_ was gone?" Ron said, aghast. "How'd they manage that?"

"Vanishing spell. A powerful one. I promise you, whoever did it was a descendent of a death eater. But fellows…"

"So we lock them up!" Ron interrupted angrily. "We get the old death eaters, and we stick 'em back in Azkaban. How 'bout it Harry?"

Harry shook his head, "No Ron, I don't think –"

"Please," Norman said, sticking up a hand. "We haven't told you the most important part."

"What's that?" Ron and Harry asked, in unison.

"The second trip – the one seventy five years after the first one – that one had a war."

"A war?" Harry asked, his glasses falling down his nose.

"A rebellion, they call it. They have these games, called the Hunger Games." Norman shook his head, speaking quietly as if they weren't eve there. "They send in these children to fight, sort of like the Triwizard Tournament, only they have to kill each other." His attention snapped back to the Aurors, but then he turned to Stanley. "Can you, er, get the boy from the other room? We're getting to that part."

"Yes," Stanley answered quietly. He hurried off.

Norman nodded, continuing. "Well, they're having a rebellion. They cut the games short, somehow, and this girl is standing up against the Snow." He smiled. "She's only seventeen Harry, like you were."

"You met her?" Harry asked. He didn't ask any questions, because to be honest, it all sounded to familiar. The fighting, children's lives in danger. That was a world he knew. Catching a glimpse of Ron's taught, angry face, he knew his friend felt the same way.

"No," Norman answered. "Only heard talk from her boyfriend."

"Her boyfriend?" Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Well, it's complicated." Norman hesitated. "I'll let him tell you himself, all about it, before we make plans to go back."

"_Go back?" _Ron exclaimed, bursting forth from his silent thoughts.

"What do you mean himself?" Harry asked, suspicious.

Norman ignored them both, watching as Stanley brought the person in question from the other room. "Ah, good. Peeta, would you mind telling these two about Katniss and the Hunger Games?"

A/N: That's it for now! I would really, really appreciate any reviews you can leave – whether praise, CC or flame. Thanks so much for reading!


	2. In the Line of Duty

A/N: Thanks to the people who reviewed last chapter! : ) I hope you like this next installment.

Peeta stepped forward, smiling meekly. "Alright… you want me to?" He looked uncertain.

"You know what," Norman said, changing pace. "Perhaps not now." He met Stanley's eyes, speaking directly to him. "The boy's already told us once, Stan. Maybe _we _could do the honors of filling Harry and Ron in?"

Stanley sighed, nodding anyway. "That would be fine."

Realizing this meant he didn't have to tell them, Peeta stayed quiet and continued to smile. After a moment, Harry stepped forward.

"It's nice to meet you," he said, "I'm Harry Potter." He held out his hand, which Peeta shook gratefully.

"I'm Peeta Mellark. You're – you're the one they told me about." He glanced back at Norman. "Right?"

"Right," he answered, cheeks turning a ruddy color. They'd told Peeta a heap of stories about Voldemort and the war, all of which had given him quite the heroic impression of Harry. They'd told Peeta that Harry would be the one to save his District.

Harry stood uncomfortably for a moment, and then beckoned Ron over.

"Hullo," Ron said, sounding about as friendly as a metal spike. "I'm Ron Weasley." He cleared his throat, shuffling his feet impatiently. Clearly, his idea of a successful mission had not included a refugee.

A few more seconds slipped by, no one certain what to say. Stanley looked pained, the others merely uncomfortable. Finally, Ron broke the tension with his usual brusqueness.

"Don't mean to be rude," he muttered, rubbing his hand against his chin, "But er, what are we going to _do _exactly?" He eyes narrowed on Peeta, as if it were somehow up to him.

"Peeta's going to stay here with us," Norman replied calmly, "Until we figure out what our plan of attack is. Then we'll return with him, and help them sort things out."

"We're going to attack then?" Harry asked. He did want to help and everything, but his own life had calmed down so much that he wasn't sure if he could handle it. Besides, this was for a world that wasn't even their own – and he had his children to think of!

"Of course," Stanley replied roughly. "We can't leave them on their own, now can we? This is our future, as much as it is their present."

"Well, where is _Peeta,"_ Ron began, his emphasis suggesting mockery, "Going to stay?"

Harry shot a sidelong glance at his friend, hoping Ron would get the message and be little nicer. After all, it wasn't the boy's fault that their friends had decided to take him time traveling.

"I don't know," Stanley said, sticking his hands in his pockets. He seemed oblivious to Ron's snide tone. "I was thinking at the Burrow? With your mum and dad?" There was a long pause, as Ron's ears reddened and his mouth dropped into a gape. "Would that be alright?"

"I – Charlie's home," Ron mumbled, his eyes wide. "From Romania. But – I … I'll have to ask my mum." He looked at Peeta, whose own attention had changed to the floor, and then back at Harry.

Harry smiled, trying to be as helpful as possible. "If that's not alright, I'm sure he can stay with us."

Ron held his hands up, as if to say 'suit yourself'.

"He still has some injuries to be treated," Norman explained, "So I'm going to take him down to Mungos, alright? We'll meet you at the Burrow in about an hour."

"Is Robert coming?" Harry asked, concerned. Robert was a good friend of theirs as well, and the fact that he was tied up in St. Mungo's and being treated for shock didn't sound promising at all.

Stanley shook his head. "Poor bloke took what we saw too hard. He's going to go home to his family after they release him. Here, I'll come with you two to Ron's house."

"I've got to OWL Hermione first," Ron said, blinking.

"Oh right!" Stanley exclaimed, clapping a hand to his forehead. "I completely forgot she was off from work."

Ron scowled. His friend forgetting that his wife was pregnant did nothing to help his mood. Meanwhile, Harry was staring at Peeta, grappling for some idea of the boy's thoughts. Peeta stared right back, smiling and evidently unafraid, but quiet. Norman slung an arm around him, prodding him out the door.

"Come on lad, you'll talk to them later."

"Nice – nice to meet you," Peeta said kindly, waving as they exited the department of mysteries.

"Alright Stanley," Ron said at once, "What's going on?"

Stanley sighed. "I knew you were going to act this way. Alright, come on then. Upstairs, and we can talk about it on the way." The other two followed, Ron's feet dragging as he lagged behind. While it had been Harry was unready for the news about the mission, it was he who didn't like the idea of a boy from the future.

"We found him, because their government picked him up after the most recent round of Hunger Games –"

"What are those again?" Harry asked.

"The game where the children have to kill each other," Stanley said, trying to be matter-of-fact about it. "They're chosen, two a year, and they have to go. But they can volunteer if they want to." He shook his head. "There's more, but the details are all very hazy to me. Maybe Norman can explain it better." They started climbing the stairs. "Anyway, he and his girlfriend Katniss got called back a second time, which isn't supposed to happen. But it did, and then they got broken out of the arena by the rebellion, but then Peeta got found by the government –"

"And you found him," Harry interrupted. Stanley had been speaking at warp speed; it was miraculous that they'd heard him at all.

"Yes, we found him," Stanley said. "Any last questions before we apparate?"

"This girl," Harry said. "You said she's the one responsible for the, er, rebellion?"

"Yes, Katniss. Bloody hell, he loves her so much I feel like I know her." He gave a hearty laugh. "He's liked her since she was a little kid, he says, and their parents were friends. She volunteered to save her sister in the Games, when her sister got called. Again, there's more, but Norman can tell it better than I can. Or Peeta himself, if he's up to it."

"Up to it?" Ron asked. He snorted. "He was just here. He seemed fine to me."

"He's been through a lot in the last year, Ron. He lost his leg, he almost lost Katniss a few times. He almost died."

"Well, Harry and I had that happen to us a lot," Ron said hotly. "Stop acting as if he's special."

"Ron," Harry interrupted at last. "Why do you hate this boy so much?"

Ron seemed taken aback; he put his hand to his chin in thought. "I don't know, really. Reminds me of Malfoy, maybe?"

Harry laughed now. "Why, because he's blonde?"

"Dunno, really," Ron remarked. "Guess it's too late now, eh?"

"Seeing as we said the mission was a go," Harry replied. He shook his head, turning to Stanley. "Do you really expect us to go and save this place?"

There was a long pause, and it seemed Stanley was considering his answer. At last, he nodded. "Yes. Who knows, you still may meet the descendent of someone you know. And," he smiled, "Isn't that your job?"

A/N: That's all for now! : ) Don't worry, the next chapter will get more "fun", with Peeta meeting the rest of the Weasley family and an interesting family dinner. Thank you so much for reading; reviews would be much appreciated!


	3. Be Our Guest

A/N: I'm very sorry that I left this at two chapters for such a long time : (. I'm back though, at least for now! Read and review, if you would be so kind.

"I told you mum, I don't _know_," Ron repeated, frustrated by his mother's inability to understand.

"But _why _does he need to stay with us?" Molly asked, frowning at Ron when he rolled his eyes. She and her son were huddled over the stove, Ron giving a rushed, second-hand account of the time travel mission. She turned, carrying the brisket to the dining room table. "I would be glad to take him in, you know," she added, "But I feel as if I don't know much."

"Well, I don't either," Ron replied, folding his arms. He paused, uncertain. "You'll take him then?"

"Yes, yes, I'll take him," Molly said quickly, waving a hand. "Ron, will you help set the table?" she interjected, thrusting a stack of plates into his arms before he could refuse. "He can have your room if he likes." Ron scowled, his mother ignored him. "Will we at least get to meet the boy?"

"Yes, at dinner," Ron replied, impatient as always. "That's what I've been trying to tell you."

"You have?" she looked around, suddenly panicked. "But we don't have enough food!"

"It's er… he and Stan and Norm, didn't I say that?"

"No, you didn't," a voice interrupted. Charlie looked up from the couch, draining the last of his butterbeer. "I've been listening." He strode over to his brother and mum, a genial expression on his easy face. "Here Mum, why don't I help."

She smiled, patting his cheek. "Thank you dear. Oh, I've got to make more meat now. Perhaps if I double the amount?" She bit her lip, using her wand to do the trick. "But it might not taste the same…" she said, speaking mostly to herself. Her sons looked at one another, smirking. Molly had been like this all their lives.

"Who is this bloke, anyhow?" Charlie asked, abruptly serious.

"Don't ask me," Ron replied, shrugging. "I barely met him."

"D'you like him?"

Ron made a face. "Reminds me a bit of Malfoy."

Charlie threw his head back, laughing. "So you've condemned him already," he summarized.

"Where's Harry?" Molly asked, turning back abruptly. "He and Ginny are coming, aren't they?"

"I should hope so," Charlie replied, a giant grin still on his face. "It's my coming home dinner. I must see my nieces and nephews!"

"Yes, well, Roxanne was ill earlier, dear, so George and Angie might not be coming."

"What?" Charlie asked, looking thoroughly crestfallen. "No George and Roxanne and…" he broke off, shaking his head. "Sorry," he murmured. "Still have a little trouble calling _their _son Fred." He looked accusingly at Ron. "I can't believe you don't. You are _you _and everything."

Ignoring the insult, and the question over Fred's name, Ron answered his mother in a loud voice. "Yes Mum, Harry's coming. He went to escort Hermione and Ginny, since, y'know pregnancy makes travel hard."

Molly looked up, sighing. "Charlie," she addressed him, answering him first. "You haven't seen him enough – "

"Seen who?" Ron interrupted.

"You haven't seen Fred enough," Molly repeated. "That's why you aren't used to it. You will be, though," she added threateningly, insinuating that perhaps she expected him to move back home. "And Ron, yes," her eyes twinkled, "Of course. It's only a few weeks until their due dates, isn't it?" Her knowing smile let on that she'd been keeping count.

"Til Hermione's, yeah. Ginny's got over a month, remember."

"Right, right. Are you ready to be a father?" She asked, clasping her hands together.

Ron choked on air, sputtering, and then sighed in relief at the sounds from the foyer. The door swung open, revealing Harry, Hermione and Ginny behind it. The women's bellies were swollen as expected, Hermione's looking ready to burst. Ron went to kiss his wife, and Charlie shut his eyes comically.

"How are you?" Ron asked, his voice sweeter than anyone had heard it before. He turned his head, watching as Harry helped his sister into a chair. "She alright, Harry?"

"I'm fine," Ginny answered, "And I can speak for myself, thanks Ron."

"She's been emotional today," Hermione whispered. "Anyway, I'm fine."

"You are?"

"Yes," she leaned forward, kissing the freckled tip of Ron's nose. "Harry told me about Peeta, Ron."

"He did?" Ron replied, grunting as he pulled them into a chair. He tried to sound indifferent, but it came out as very grumpy.

"Yes," Hermione repeated, leaning her head against his chest. "And I think it's nice, Ron."

"You do?" he leaned forward to meet her eyes, surprised.

"Well, of course. This …" she patted her tummy, "this future world is our child's future. Or our grandchild's maybe."

"It's further ahead than that, Hermione," Ron interrupted.

She held up a hand, stopping him, and he obeyed. Hermione had been scaring him more and more, ever since the pregnancy – he'd learned to listen to her.

"Either way," she continued, "We can't just let it dissolve, can we? That wouldn't be right. Especially not now that we know what happens." They sat in silence, Ron's stomach squirming in the way that it always did when she was right.

"So what do you want to do?" he asked, bitterness oozing between his words.

"Well, I'd like to meet Peeta first," she said. "And you know," she went on, taking his hands. "After that, it isn't really up to us, is it? For once, this is someone else's mission."

Ron's expression grew dark. "But it isn't really that way, Hermione," he muttered. "Course they're going to want advice from The Chosen One."

"Mmm," Hermione replied, rubbing her finger across the hairs on the back of his knuckles. She didn't say anything else, deciding to wait for his kettle of resentments to boil over.

One by one, the other siblings began to arrive. Bill and Fleur came with their lot in tow, and soon Percy and Audrey arrived with Lucy and Molly II. Everyone chatted contentedly, the news of the mission spreading in whispers. Eyes flickered nervously to the door after that, and everyone spoke with a bit too much bravado.

"Where are they, Ron?" Molly finally snapped. "There are only so many times I can use a reheating spell on dinner."

Ron raised his hands, annoyed. "Don't ask me, Mum. It's not as if I know. And anyway, where's Dad?"

"Oh, you're father's working late tonight," she replied. "You didn't see him today?"

"No, we were down in the Department of Mysteries," Harry replied. Involuntarily, he gave a kind of twitch. The place continued too many memories, and most of them were bad ones. Ginny took his hand.

"Ah, well," Molly continued, "he's working late. Don't expect him until desert."

"Where _are_ they?" Ron muttered, mostly to himself.

"St. Mungos, right?" Harry asked, frowning.

"Dunno. I mean, that's what Norm said, but who can tell with him?" Ron asked. "Mum, can I have a firewhiskey?" he asked, extending his hand for one.

"You certainly may not –"

"I'm way over the age limit!" Ron retorted. "Mum, I'm not a teenager anymore."

"I know that," Molly replied, her patience spluttering to its end. Her eyes seemed to pull their sockets toward them, fixing a rather daunting glare on her son. "But we haven't eaten yet, and you are not ruining your appetite." Ron rolled his eyes.

"Anyway," Harry said, returning to their earlier conversation. "I don't think Norm would risk anything. Or do anything," he added pointedly. "They're probably getting stopped for questions."

"Oh bloody hell," Ron said, putting the pieces together. "A Prophet article, do you think?" He pretended to gag; even after all these years, it was not the most beloved of publications.

"Could be," Harry replied calmly.

"Ron," Percy said, straightening his glasses. "They only try to do their job, you know. They aren't villains."

Ron turned his head, ready to snap back, but it was awfully hard with Lucy nestled in his brother's lap. It had become far too difficult to call Percy a prat, ever since he'd had children. He settled for giving Percy a discreet version of the finger, and receiving a swift admonishment from Hermione in turn

"Charlie," Hermione began, trying her best to keep the conversation civil. "How's Romania?"

"Oh, you know," he replied. "It's alright. Dragons are still the same, mostly." He grinned, uncomfortable at getting the spotlight in such a large group of people.

"Uncle Harry," Dominique said, racing in from the yard with the cousins at his heels. The kids – all except Lucy, who detested sports, and Louis, who was only a baby – had been playing Quidditch in the field. "Where's James?"

"Oh, we thought we'd let him stay over with Teddy and Andromeda."

Ginny gave a little moan of mother's anxiety. "And I still can't believe we did. He's only three for Godric's sake," she said, hitting her husband in the arm.

Harry grimaced, "I know, Gin, but remember we agreed it might be nice for him…"

"So Teddy isn't coming either?" Victoire asked. The adults all smiled, recalling how she hero-worshipped the boy.

"Not tonight," Harry replied, smiling back. He and Ginny then held a hushed debate, deliberating whether the sleepover was a good idea. It turned into more of an argument, really, but the others were so loud that no one could hear. Now that the children were back in the room, they began to complain about the timing of dinner.

"Er… hello?" a rusty voice interrupted. Stan stepped in, waving, Peeta and Norm behind him. "I did knock," he insisted, "but I didn't think you could hear me."

It seemed he'd pulled a plug in the conversations, leaving the room at a buzzing silence. "Come in, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, going to greet him. She knew Stan, although not well. She had only briefly met Norman, however, since he was an Unspeakable. They kept odd hours.

"And hello Norm," she said, pecking him on the cheek. She cast a quick glance to the living room, commanding her extended family to join her at the door. Bill and Harry rose first, going to greet Stan.

"And you must be Peeta," Molly said at last, warmly going to embrace the boy. He looked surprised at first, unused to motherly affection (from a woman whom he'd never met before, no less), but eventually reciprocated.

"Thank you for having me," he said. His voice was tight, probably full of nerves, but he sounded perfectly friendly. There was a certain air to him, as well. Politeness, or something near to it. Perhaps that's what Ron picked up on, that he detested so much.

"Well, why don't we eat?" Molly asked, artfully cutting off her family before they could reach Peeta and shake his hand. He looked so _young._ She had a stray desire to make this night easy for him, to take care of him.

She led them to the table, gesturing at seats for Peeta and the ministry employees.

"No need to wait," she said pointedly, eyeing Ron and Charlie who had already begun.

"Sorry mum," both muttered.

The table was silent for a few moments, everyone eating and feeling nervous, until Stanley spoke. "Mmm, Mrs. Weasley, your food is just as delicious as the boys say."

"The boys?" Ron mouthed to Harry, annoyed. Harry shrugged.

"Thank you," Molly replied, smiling sweetly to Stanley.

He tapped Peeta's shoulder, in what appeared a rather rough matter. "Didn't I tell you? It's just as good as the damned Capitol's food."

Peeta gave a quiet, delicate chuckle. "Yeah." He glanced up, clearing his throat. "Yeah, it really is delicious." He smiled at Molly as well, his expression skillfully charming her.

"Thank you," Molly said. She paused, for only a moment, and then decided to go on. "Peeta, I'm very curious… is there – would you like to tell us about your future?"

He sighed, his smile flickering and then transforming to a frown. "Where do you want me to start?"

A/N: All for now : ). I suppose I could have kept it going, but I think the explanation will make a nice chapter of its own. Many thanks for reading! If you could review, that would be amazing.


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